Please Read the Fine Print

(All Individuals mentioned in this story are over the age of 18+ and consented to the activites mentioned.)

Have you ever wondered if you are too gullible? Maybe you have wondered if you have gone too far, or maybe fell for something super obvious. I have had those thoughts. Mainly because I often find myself in situations that I most likely put myself in. I am a reasonably smart person, but I am not immune to being an airhead sometimes. 

Let’s get this story started, and as a fun little game you can play while reading, count how many obvious red flags or traps appear over the course of the story. 

I have had a client for a while. He is an older man, perhaps in his late 60’s. He normally has me come over, ties me up to a chair or he places me in his lap, and just tells me about his life or week or day, something like that. He basically uses me as a therapist, except I am much cheaper and I don’t get to talk because he tapes my mouth shut. 

I have been meeting him every so often for a few months. He will message me, schedule a time, I’ll show up, he’ll restrain me and hush me up, before placing me in a way where I can sit and listen to him talk, without judgement or interruption. It’s a little strange, even having done it for some time now, but the money is good and he seems to enjoy getting to have a one-sided conversation with someone. 

I feel like, in the time I have gotten to know him, that I have learned a lot about his personal life. I feel like a lot of what I know is private and for the sake of this story, I will uphold his privacy and dance around what is said.

Luckily, this story involves very little conversation between the two of us. It all started when, like clockwork, he messaged me hoping to schedule a session on a saturday morning. I had no plans and agreed pretty quickly. I barely read what he had in mind for this session as it was mostly the same every time. I actually had come to enjoy his sessions. I got to sit there and struggle in some pretty decent rope bondage while an elder talked about his life story. It almost felt like charity except for the fact that I was getting paid. He was a gentleman like 95% of the time too, never really touching me in a perverted way. 

My outfits never really mattered to him. I had worn a variety in our past sessions. White cotton sweaters, black tights with brown ugg boots in the winter. Yellow sundresses with sandals in the summer. Jeans and a pink blouse in the fall. And my blue hoodie with black skirt in the spring. This time around, it was shockingly nice in early February, so I decided to dress lightly and cutely. 

I decided to wear jean booty shorts with a red tank top. Combined with a white headband and matching white loafers. He never seems to have hair or makeup requests so I just do the normal, daily makeup and hair I do when going out. Cute but not too much. A cute fit which would keep me comedy during his yap session. I don’t know why I always wanted to look cute for sessions with him, but now that I’m thinking about it, it may have something to do with the fact that these sessions are not super long and I usually go out afterwards if it is early enough. I remember he specifically said to Uber as his driveway was full and didn’t want my car to get towed. I agreed and he arranged the uber for me, even paying for it. When it came to pick me up, I left with my purse and made my way to him. It was odd he didn’t want me driving, but his excuse made sense so I never questioned it.

The drive to him is relatively short, only clocking in at 25ish minutes. He lives in this pretty nice neighborhood with this big house. It’s one of those houses with a big driveway that wraps around the front. It was a big white house with all the fancy black windows and doors. When I arrived, the driveway was empty and everything looked normal. I was a bit confused but pushed forward to the front door. 

I knocked on the door and he opened it for me. For now, let's call him, “Gramps”. Gramps welcomed me into his house as usual, the only difference is, the house looked incredibly empty and there were boxes everywhere. “Are you moving Gramps?” I said while taking off my shoes by the door, exposing my white socks. “Yeah, moving day, thought we could try something fun before I need to load everything up when the movers get here.” Normally we had our sessions in the living room, but instead, I was directed to an empty guest room on the first floor, far from the front of the house. 

When we arrived, I placed my purse on a nearby box and he told me to stay put while he grabbed something. I waited in the room, examining all the boxes and a large box in the middle of the room. I looked inside to find it empty. I couldn’t see anything in the room to go inside and thought that’s what he must have been going to get. Instead, he retired with a small brown duffle bag of vet wrap. He must have had like 20 rolls of the stuff. They were all large black rolls just waiting to serve their purpose. “No rope today Gramps?” I said while he sorted through the tape. “Not today, girly, got to make this go a little faster before they arrive.” I was a bit confused but I was getting paid the normal amount, so I wasn’t complaining about a faster session. 

“Have you ever been mummified?” Gramps said while waving a roll in front of me. “Actually, yes, is that what you’d like to do with me?” I said standing there. He nodded and I complied with his request. He moved behind me and asked me to place my arms in a comfortable position. I decided to place my arms horizontally behind my back, in a box-tie position. He then took the tape and began weaving it tightly around my wrists and arms. He then began wrapping my chest and torso. He wrapped over my breasts, being careful to let my curves show through the tape and accent my figure better. He wrapped the tape over my shoulders, connecting it  to my arms, which hoisted my arms up and kept them pinned and pulled. He successfully wrapped my entire torso with only a few rolls of tape. 

He then began moving downward, wrapping my waist, hips, and thighs. Once he had secured my lower half, he helped me sit down on the carpeted floor, before he continued taping my legs and ankles. When he got to my feet, he removed my socks from my feet and started to tickle me. I resisted at first, but he pulled them together and held tightly, ticking more and more. I started to squirm and panic in my bonds. Tears quickly rushed out from my eyes as he tortured me with his fingers on the soles of my feet. I begged and begged for him to stop as I tried to escape his grasp, but no such luck in breaking free. My toes were wriggling and feet scrunching to find any relief from his tickle attacks. “Such a noisy girl.. Let’s fix that.” Gramps had said while rolling up my worn socks. I started to realize what he was doing and tried to resist. I closed my mouth and held it closed, but with his age came wisdom as he held my nose, forcing me to open my mouth for air. Once I did, he shoved the socks inside and began wrapping the same black vet tape around multiple times. My socks luckily didn’t taste terrible, but it was still gross that my worn socks were now keeping me quiet. He then lightly wrapped the same tape under my chin and around my neck, down to my shoulders which were now fully covered. He then went to my feet to tape those over too, covering my toes with several wraps to ensure I was secured. From the bottom of my nose to the tips of my toes, I was now completely mummified

I laid there, struggling to break free from my mummification, but I wasn’t strong enough and could barely budge. I had never experienced something like this from Gramps. I was pretty impressed and shockingly comfortable. He stood over me for a while, pushing me around with his feet, flipping me over and watching me struggle. He would occasionally notice an area that was breaking free or exposing the inside, which he quickly repaired with more tape. He was not going to let me go too easily. Mummification is very hard to escape. You lose access to any limps and a lot of movement. Without the usage of fingers, it becomes nearly impossible to find a way to free yourself or use anything like doors or tools. I couldn’t even sit up properly with the way I was wrapped. He would sometimes lean in to tickle my sides or feet again, causing me to wiggle and squirm for his pleasure. My muffled laugh crying out after every attack. 

I was pretty complacent in my bondage. I was just kinda hanging out as he watched me struggle in between tickle attacks. I noticed how I was feeling being wrapped up like this. Not sexy hot, but physically hot. Eventually, he saw a moving truck pull up and realized our time together had now ended. Or at least, that’s what was supposed to happen. Instead, he walked behind me without saying a word and pulled me up, bringing me back to my feet. It was insanely hard to balance, but as I was wobbling there, he pulled the empty box over to me, grabbed me again, and picked me up and began placing me inside the box. I squirmed and screamed in my gag, but he did not listen. Once I was placed in the box, he took a white cloth and tightly wrapped it around my mouth and nose, creating an effective OTN gag. He then started to lower me into the cardboard box. 

I was now sitting in the box with my legs curled up in front of me to properly fit me. He tossed in my shoes and purse before going to the side of the room to grab something else. I continued to thrash and squirm, noticing this, he then picked up a bucket I had not seen, and began pouring in packaging peanuts. He filled the box to the brim, just reaching my neck. He then closed the lid above me, sealing it with packaging tape. The handles to the box were to my left and right and from the looks of it, he had already cut a slot in the box in front of me so I could see out of the box. It was just about the same size as the holes used as handles on the sides of the box. He leaned into the view hole he made for me and told me to shut up and behave. He was taking our session to a new location and I needed to be shipped correctly. 

My eyes widened and I started to slightly panic. Was he actually kidnapping me? Like this wasn’t a bit or CNC situation, but an actual legit kidnapping? If he was, why would he take my purse with me? My phone was in there so I could be tracked. Unless he took my phone out and destroyed it. But he was also registered on the site and our session was booked there too, so if I disappeared, he’d be the first culprit.

I mean there were a lot of signs in which this was an obvious abduction. No car, potentially no phone, and I was being moved to a secondary location. I was a bit freaked out at this point, but my gag was so tight I could barely make any noise from inside the box. I was sealed in, awaiting whatever fate he had in store for me. As I struggled, I felt a weak vibration come from my purse, pressed against me inside the box and took a sigh of relief.  Okay, so he didn’t destroy or remove my phone which means he either forgot it or this is a CNC type of kidnaping. I still wanted to escape, but being mummified in a box was not something I could easily get out of.

After a lot of struggling and squirming, I found myself way more winded and out of breath. This stupid OTN gag was keeping me weak and quiet. I couldn’t yell or trash too much because I would then start to have issues breathing. I decided to remain calm and try to find a more practical way of escaping. Maybe I could rub my taped arms against the box and it would magically break free? Fat chance. I was really out of breath and my situation was keeping me pretty weak and docile. I was starting to break under the immense wait of my imprisonment. I truly felt like I was being abducted and my life was crumbling around me. 

The movers had made quick work loading the truck and had one last room to load before everything was ready to go. My room was that last room and they managed to take every box around me, leaving me for last. Gramps came in while they were outside loading and slapped a “Fragile, This Way Up” sticker on the front of the box. “Now be a good girl and stay nice and quiet. These nice men are going to load you up and we will be on our way. I would take you in my car but there is just no room. See you in a little sweetheart.” He stood up and started to make his way out of the room. I whimpered through my gag, wanting him to come back, wanting someone to save me.

A mover came in with a hand truck and wheeled it behind me. He then loaded my box and began tilting me backwards, facing the air. The peanuts shifted around me, and I grunted as I was shifted in the box. This poor guy, he probably thought this box was filled with some expensive antique which is why it was so heavy, little did he know an adult woman was bound and gagged on the inside. He wheeled me through the house, completely unaware I was inside.Once we hit the front door, Gramps was standing there holding the door. We quickly passed him as I let out another soft whimper to get him to release me. I was of course ignored and was taken to the ramp leading into the moving truck. Once I made it up the ramp, my box was the last to go in, being rotated and shifted until I faced the back of the truck, seeing the outside for one last time. I could see Gramps talking to one of the movers while everyone else was ignoring my pitiful cries for help. Once they had confirmed everything was loaded, they removed the loading ramp, and closed the heavy door downward, sealing me inside the trunk with the rest of Gramps’ belongings. 

The sounds of the trunk’s engine and stuffed cargo kept my volume to a minuscule level, essentially muting me. I struggled and tried to break free, but just could not get out of this predicament. I had to take breaks often, as my gag was forcing me to stop and catch my breath. I tried to think more on the situation and the potential reality of it all. Was this kidnapping for real? What was my escape plan if it wasn’t? Where was I being taken to? I had a lot of time in that box in the back of a moving truck to think about what was happening and what to do next. The drive lasted for what felt like an hour or so. Once I stopped, I was really nervous and wondered what was next? Would I be left in here? Would they unload me and put me in a storage unit? When the doors opened and sunlight broke through, I had to adjust my eyes from the dark truck environment I had been used to.

It was hard to see, on account of being trapped in a cardboard box, but it looked like another neighborhood. This neighborhood looked a little more modest, lot’s of single story ranch style homes. The movers wasted no time and got the ramp setup, grabbing the hand truck and loading my box first. I was once again shifted around until I was facing forward, in which I was finally taken out of the trunk. The mover had asked where Gramps’ wanted the box to be placed and he said, “Leave it in the garage, I have a cart, I can move it to the backyard.” My eyes widened, but I was too tired and worn out to call out for help. The mover did as he was asked and placed me in the garage while they continued to unload. I watched for a while as they moved around and past me taking boxes from the truck into this new home. Suddenly, my box was loaded on a hand-truck and moved around the side of the house, through a wooden gate to the house's backyard.

Once we were alone in the backyard, Gramp’s spoke up saying, “Such a good girl, behaving herself for me. If you promise to be nice I’ll let you out of the box once we reach our destination.” I let out a defeated sigh of submission which seemed to please him. He carried me over to a shed in the corner of his backyard. Clearly one of those sheds used for storing farming or yard equipment. He opened the double doors and wheeled me inside. I could see a couch and wooden chair amongst a bunch of boxes. There was a window on the side wall of this shed, overlooking the entire backyard and side fence we came through, but there was a tree semi-blocking the full view. Once he placed the box inside, he used scissors to open the box and finally open the top. At this point I was covered in sweat. The mummification was already hot, but being stuffed in a tight box for over an hour was not helping. He pulled me upward, having me stand in the box as he fished for my shoes and purse. Once he found them, he placed them on top of a nearby box and then turned back to me. He pulled me out and placed me lightly on the wooden chair. Once He finally sat me down, I began thrashing and kicking again, this time with more energy and anger. 

He could sense that I was not fully broken in yet and took some rope and began tying my mummified body to the chair. He secured my chest, lap, and legs to ensure I couldn't kick or squirm too much. I yanked on the ropes in an attempt to break free and he leaned in, cupping my chin with his hand saying, “Behave! I’ll be back once the movers are done. Don’t get any ideas.” He closed the doors to the shed, once again, locking me away. With my body secured to the chair and still heavily mummified, I could hardly move. He also never removed my OTN gag, so I had to control my breathing often. 30 minutes had passed and I could hear the sound of the truck leaving, even if it was a faint noise. I could see through the window that Gramps was coming my direction and decided the best I could do was remain calm and act submissive so I’d have a chance at escape. 

Gramps opened the doors to the shed, appreciating the view which was me, his victim, still strapped to the chair. He came over and began to untie the rope. Once the rope was removed, he picked me up and placed me on the nearby couch. He finally removed my OTN cloth gag, leaving just the wrapped tape gag. I never appreciated breathing until that gag was removed. It didn’t really matter in the end because I was so worn out that even with my breathing back to normal, I had no energy to fight back anymore. He had me lay down on the coach, relaxing and getting stretched out. 

No joke, I was so tired already, I could have fallen asleep on that coach, but the adrenaline of being free from the box finally kicked in and I shot upwards, sitting up on the coach and protesting to Gramps, he laid me back down with some force in his hands and told me I still needed to relax. He took a dog collar and placed it around my neck, attaching a long leash to a wooden pole. This was a simple, yet effective security system to keep me from hopping away. I decided to not fight it, the more I resisted, the more I was punished. I laid back down and tried to relax. Once again, Gramps left the shed again, leaving me locked inside. 

I dozed off for a while. I was so beaten up from this kidnapping. I was still, somehow, comfy in my bondage. My arms and legs were sore, but not in any real pain. I was definitely hot in my mummification, my hair was starting to have wet strands from the sweat. I looked up at the ceiling of the shed. Pondered my life choices for a little bit. I barely moved, just breathing lightly and adjusting every so often. It felt like I had been put in a timeout. The sun gleamed into the shed, birds chirping outside, and here I was, bound and gagged in an old man’s shed. The sweat from the mummification was starting to remove the adhesive from the bottom layer of the tape. I could feel pieces of it coming loose. I lightly struggled to see if there was any chance of escape, but because of the layers and layers of tape, plus the fact that the tape had only now started to come loose, I was not going to be free anytime soon, at least not on my own. Another hour passed, it was definitely past noon at this point. I was thirsty and hungry, but now that I was this man’s prisoner, I had no clue how I was going to be treated. 

Was this my new life? A mummified plaything or pet for this old man? Held captive in a backyard in a suburban neighborhood. I felt defeated, but still nervous about what was to come. With those thoughts passing the time, Gramps returned again and took notice of my lack of rebellion. He sat me up and leaned me on his shoulder. He played with my hair and I didn’t fight back. I didn’t want to be punished again. He held me close and ran his hands over my taped body. I wanted to resist, but I chose to accept it and be obedient. 

Gramp’s must have known that I was willing to cooperate. He began cutting the tape off and removing it. Once I was freed, I was handed a towel and water bottle. There is something so amazing about drinking water after being gagged for a while. Refreshing for the soul. I was physically weak and noticeably tired. But Gramp’s was not done with me. He had me place my hands behind my back, which he tied together with rope. A cleave gagged was secured in my mouth, and my ankles received the same treatment as my wrists. He then picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder, before carrying me away to the house. 

The inside of the house was cold, or at least it felt like that to me because of how overheated I had been for the past few hours. My gag was lousy but I didn’t fight back or try and call for help. I was defeated for the time being and was too scared to resist or fight back. When he placed me on the living room floor he must have noticed me whimpering weakly. He calmly stated, “Wow, you should be an actress, this has been the most convincing roleplay I have ever seen!”

What?

What did he just say? Did he say, roleplay? What did he mean by that? Does he think I have been acting this entire time? After all the things or torment he has put me through, he actually believes that I have been putting on an act? I needed to talk to him. I needed to find a way to communicate my confusion. My gag was pretty flimsy and maybe with enough pressure and effort from my tongue, I could push it out. I first tried to gag-talk and see if he’d listen. It came out pretty garbled like, “Uhhn Ghhagh mffph!” He told me to shush while he moved his boxes around in the kitchen nearby. I decided the gag needed to be removed and I had to choose my words carefully. I started squirming lightly and adjusting my jaw and tongue to see if the gag could be pushed out. I could tell I was making progress, but at the same time, I think Gramps also knew what I was doing, as he started to make his way towards me. Just a little more and I could speak. One final push and the gag finally moved from behind my teeth to my lips and I was able to remove it.

He was leaning down behind me now, it was now or never. “No no no wait wai-mmpphh!” He placed his hand firmly against my mouth, creating an effective hand-gag. I squirmed in his grasp, trying to break free so I could communicate. He clearly wasn’t having it as he used his free hand to untie the cloth hanging from my neck. I knew what he was planning and tried even harder to communicate or break free. He grabbed my chin and pulled my mouth open before shoving the now wadded up cloth into my mouth. Once inside, he then resealed my mouth with his hands before looking around for something to seal my lips with. He pulled me upwards, back to my feet and had me stand there as he went to fetch the sealant. “Don’t spit that out or you’ll be punished.” I was scared to see what he had in mind for punishment so I obeyed and waited for him to return. When he did, he immediately started tearing strips of duct tape off of a roll and began layering them on my face, completely covering my mouth and lips. 

Now that I was securely gagged once again, he had me hop over to a chair he had dragged out from his kitchen area. He sat me down and once again began weaving rope around me to secure me to the chair, keeping me secured and stationary. I was so frustrated, I just wanted him to listen to me. For once being gagged was really annoying. I wish I’d stopped struggling and fighting him sooner, because he was not pleased with my disobedience and pulled out a similar piece of cloth he had used when he mummified me. I shook my head as my eyes went wide with fear but it was too late for me to apologize. He tightly pulled the cloth over my mouth and nose, creating another OTN gag. 

I learned my lesson from the last time. I didn’t panic or go wild, I needed to conserve my energy and keep my breathing regulated. I played nice now, looking for an alternate way to free myself and have a two-way conversation for once. He sat on a couch in the living room, he seemed tired and put his feet up to relax. “You’re kidding me right?” I thought to myself while this man took a literal nap, ignoring my plight. I looked around for a way to free myself, with no sharp object like scissors in sight. I then realized that the rope restraining my wrists was not as thorough as the rigging jon he had done in the past. It was usually more tight and harder to pull on, this time however, I had some slack in the rope. With my finger free and the ropes slack, I may just be able to free myself and escape. My makeup was runny and the sweat from squirming and adjusting started to cause an ache to develop over my body. My boobs were glistening with sweat and my things as well. I needed to focus and get my freedom. With some effort, I was able to loosen the ropes around my wrists and started working on the ropes securing me to the chair. It was hard to use my fingers with the discomfort I was feeling, but I kept going, hoping for a chance at freedom. The gag was driving me crazy, forcing me to take breaks to catch my breath. 

Gramps woke up from his cat nap. I shift my hands quickly behind my back, making it appear like I was still tied. He came over and grabbed my chin again. I glared at him and he smiled with a stupid grin. He took the OTN gag and shifted it under my nose, keeping it on as an OTM gag. I took several deep breaths, only for him to change his mind and readjust the gag again, back to its original OTN state. I was flustered and mad at him toying with me and torturing me. He placed his hand on my shoulder and took a deep sigh saying, “Alright, It's almost 2:30pm. I’ll go ahead and get an uber setup. Same place it picked you up from right?” I raised an eyebrow at him and slowly nodded my head. He played on his phone for a while, still leaving me bound and gagged nearby. Eventually, he remembered me, and came over to untie me. As he removed the rope from the chair, I started to secretly weave the rope used for my wrists around my wrists again, in an attempt to hide my escape attempt. “Looky here, the ropes just came loose! What timing!” he said while removing the rope and continued untying me. 

Once my arms and torso were united, I quickly took the cloth over my mouth and pulled it down, not even bothering to untie it. I started working on the tape and noticed he wasn’t stopping me. I continued peeling it off until I was able to spit out the cloth. I was too tired and sore to be able to really speak. He handed me another bottle of water and pointed behind himself at the hallway where the bathroom was. Without saying a word, I got up and went to relieve myself. When I got back, Gramps had a pair of fuzzy purple socks he clearly picked out of a girls section of Target as well as my shoes and purse. He handed them to me and asked if I wanted to sit on the coach while I waited for the uber. I was so confused. I decided to sit, still kinda brainwashed from his obedience training. I put the socks and my shoes on before pulling out my phone. I contemplated dialing 911, but something was bothering me about what he said earlier. Instead, I went to the app and looked at our messages. I wanted to see what I missed, if anything at all. What I saw surprised me. 

Everything that happened, every gag, binding, event, behavior, all of it was something he had listed in his request message. I didn’t read it. The ONE time I don’t read his message, is the one time he wanted to do a big bondage session filled with roleplay he always wanted to try. I felt like the biggest idiot. I was so ashamed. If only I read and actually took the time to see what he wanted to do. I buried my face in my phone. This entire time, I thought I had been legitimately abducted and he thought I was just an amazing actress and taking the role play seriously. I didn’t say anything while I waited. When the Uber arrived, I awkwardly thanked him for the session and he thanked me with the biggest smile. “I haven't had fun like that since my thearte days, you take care now sweetheart!” I left his new home, got in the uber and went home. When I got home, I showered for what must have been an hour and a half. I looked at my messages and Gramps and included a massive tip for the session. It kinda made me feel a bit better knowing I was safe the whole time and fairly compensated for my time. Now there was only one last thing to do. I needed to find fabric for OTN gags, and train with them. I won’t let them get the best of me next time. I won’t be such an easy hostage.